


Argent

by jalexic



Series: Silver [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalexic/pseuds/jalexic
Summary: “You know, I wouldn’t mind being killed by a stegosaurus. I mean, if you’re gonna go, you might as well go out in style, right?”In which a mission goes awry, and the Avengers are split up and sent into the past. Clint and Pietro find themselves sharing a Jurassic night with various prehistoric creatures.





	Argent

**** “You know, I wouldn’t mind being killed by a stegosaurus. I mean, if you’re gonna go, you might as well go out in style, right?”

Pietro barely had the energy to speak, but he mustered enough snark to reply “Is seven bullets enough style for you?”

Anyone else would have let that kill the mood (not that the mood was that great to begin with. Almost getting trampled by a dinosaur and having to speed away with an archer in your arms can really put a damper on things.) Cap would have began a lecture about the appropriateness of sarcasm in certain situations, Stark would have tried to play it off and changed the subject, Wanda would have hit him for joking about such a thing. 

But Clint just laughed. 

Pietro couldn’t help but add on: “You will not die, anyway. Not here. I will not let you get killed by a stag-... a staro-... whatever you called it.”

“Stegosaurus, kid. Y’know, like in Jurassic Park?” At Pietro’s confused and slightly irritated gaze he quickly amended: “Alright, stupid question. Remind me to sit you down and make you watch some 90’s classics, yeah?”

Pietro shook his head as he stepped towards the stream in front of them. “I do not like films; I cannot sit still long enough.” He then plunged his hands into the cool water and splashed his face, mostly so Clint would understand that he didn’t want to talk, but also so he could wash away the dirt and grime. Speeding through a Late Jurassic Age forest was difficult; he had never done it before today, but after almost tripping three times and having a prehistoric bug splatter against his cheek, he could strongly assert that he hated it.

He wondered if the others had suffered a similar fate; if they, too, had found themselves deep in the past. He sincerely hoped that, if that were the case, at least one of them had remained in the present so they could fix this. Preferably Stark, with his superior technological skills, although Pietro would never say that aloud. 

His musings at the stream were interrupted by Clint who, having previously been leaning against a tree, stood up straight and pointed into the distance. “Look, a brachiosaurid!”

“A brack- _ what?”  _

Surely enough, when he looked in the direction that Clint was pointing he could see a giant, long-necked creature chomping away at the canopy above it. It was a fair distance away, and seemed to be alone, yet Pietro still stood wearily.

“Should we go further downstream?” he asked, but Clint dismissed the idea immediately.

“Nah, we’re fine. Brachiosauridae are peaceful, docile.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Clint was silent for a few seconds. “I think I read it somewhere, maybe,” he offered unhelpfully.

Pietro sighed, yet as he continued to watch the mannerisms of the dinosaur, he was able to determine its sluggishness, its unrushed movements, and he was willing to bet that he could outrun it even without his powers.

Comforted by the thought, he returned his attention to the stream, crouching once again and letting the crisp water flow over his fingers with no real purpose. The moon was reflected brightly near his hand, and he found himself thinking that the others, wherever and  _ whenever  _ they found themselves, would be seeing the same sky. 

Surely there would be stories to tell, after this was over. He could just imagine them all together back at the tower, laughing as Sam regaled with a colourful account of Ancient Egypt, and the ‘meaningful eye contact’ he shared with Cleopatra. Wanda and Natasha would tell of their time during the early 1900’s, defying prohibition by smuggling moonshine into taverns. 

_ “Brother, where were you and Clint? What did you do?”  _ Wanda would ask, always making an effort to include him.

_ “We ran away from dinosaurs and slept by a stream,”  _ he would reply, and would be disappointed with himself for not having pursued an adventure, or at least for not fabricating something more exciting.

He was suddenly drawn from his thoughts as Clint crouched next to him, grasping his wrist and pulling his hand out of the water. “God, you’re freezing,” he muttered, and made it seem like the most natural thing in the world when he encased Pietro’s hand with both of his.

Pietro stared. “It’s nothing I cannot handle, old man,” he said, but even he had to admit that the scorn in his tone was weak. Clint just agreed, “Of course,” and pulled him closer still.

They sat together under the pale moonlight for what seemed like forever. Pietro was starting to get antsy, while Clint seemed perfectly content. There were sounds all around them; rustling in the underbrush, rippling in the water, a loud roar somewhere far away.

“You know,” Pietro began, “we could be doing something exciting right now. Just because you’re old and boring does not mean that I am.”

Clint laughed, squeezing his hand. “What do you want to do? Go and fight a dinheirosaurus?”

“Alright, I’m convinced you’re making up these names now.”

Clint shot him a smile. “Maybe, maybe not,” he teased. “Besides, isn’t my company exciting enough? I mean, I’m  _ Hawkeye.  _ I’m pretty much the coolest Avenger.”

Pietro snorted. “Please. I’m  _ way  _ cooler than you, and I’m not even really an Avenger.”

Clint just sighed - this was a conversation they’d had many times before, and one he did not wish to have now, in the rare peace they had - and wrapped an arm around Pietro’s shoulders. 

As the moon rose, Pietro found himself staring at the creature with the long neck, the brack-something. He watched as it seemed to finish eating one last tuft of leaves from the treetops before lumbering away, drifting with surprising grace into the darkness beyond. He wondered what else was lurking where the moonlight didn’t reach, what other creature with a strange and possibly made-up name could be on the prowl. Suddenly, he found himself perfectly content with the peace and silence they had found. 

A few moments later, Clint spoke up out of the blue. “I’m glad it was you.”

Pietro started. He’d almost begun to fall asleep, leaning against Clint without even realising it. He sat up straight and claimed back his hand while asking “What?”

“I’m glad that I got stuck with you,” Clint repeated, turning to look at him earnestly. Pietro wondered if there was something in the air that was making him particularly sentimental; from the hand-holding to this expression of  _ affection,  _ Pietro wasn’t convinced that Clint was completely sober. “Out of everyone on that mission, I’m happy that it was you who I ended up possibly disrupting the future with.”

Pietro swallowed, unsure of what to say. He’d felt this tension between them for ages, probably ever since they’d met, but had never acted upon it. Their friendship was so full of sarcasm and arguments that a compliment was the last thing he expected out of Clint’s mouth. Not that it wasn’t unwelcome, but Pietro suddenly found his mouth dry. His reflexive “shut up, old man” died on his tongue.

He wondered if Clint had some secret mind-reading power, as he seemed to understand exactly what Pietro was feeling, and accepted his inability to speak. His enthusiasm for ending the conversation was made even more apparent when he leaned forward for a kiss. Pietro barely had time to react before Clint pulled away and said “by the way, a dinheirosaurus is  _ totally  _ a real thing,” and then he leaned back in before Pietro could respond.

The moonlight washed over them as Pietro became content with the story they would have.

\-----

As Banner’s harrowing tale of escaping from Pompeii came to an end, Wanda caught Pietro’s eye. She gave him a certain look, staring pointedly at the obvious closeness between himself and Clint. “And you, brother? What did you and Clint get up to?”

The group’s attention was now on them, and Pietro didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, nothing interesting. We just ran away from dinosaurs, and then we fell asleep.”

“Hey, don’t sell us short, Speedy. We had way more fun than that. There was a stegosaurus…” as Clint began a somewhat exaggerated tale of their fleeting escape from certain death, Pietro caught his sister staring. They locked eyes, and she smiled, a smile which said that she knew, of course she knew, and that she was happy for them. Pietro winked before returning his attention to Clint, remembering their night under a prehistoric sky.


End file.
